


These Ghosts In You and Me

by ketchupfromyoutube



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Liam Payne smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 20:43:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3664299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ketchupfromyoutube/pseuds/ketchupfromyoutube
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You and Liam were engaged, moved in together, and madly in love. But when things got too hard it crumbled, died. You thought it was all over before Liam showed up drunk on the doorstep you both owned, hoping to bring something back to life. But can you? And what happens once you do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Ghosts In You and Me

Liam Payne, that gentleman with a smile to bring home to mother and a smolder to knock you out of your kitten heels. Liam, who woke you up on week days with his grunts coming from the balcony, doing his pull-ups. Li, who woke you up on weekends with his tongue hunting the skin of your legs. 

Liam Payne, the one you said goodbye to when things got a little too complicated. But that’s love.

Love is always complicated.

Liam had the words pouncing out his mouth as soon as he saw the look on your face. He would get on his knees that night, knuckles sliding off your hips, lips begging. Liam begged for you to stay. You cried on his crisp white dress shirt, blubbering to him that it shouldn’t be this hard.

The bulbs of the cameras cracked too loud, too close to your face. The imperfections you had to lie about in front of the mirror shoved in your face by glossy magazines. The bug-attracting light of laptops such a powerful grip. Words typed to keep you under their thumb. To crush you. 

Liam Payne, international popstar, that sweet boy you met at a carnival…

A year later now…Liam Payne seen getting very friendly with Sophia Smith at a party.

A year later now, and you still loved him. You did.

\- - - 

”Liam, Li!” Your squeaking voice echoed through the immaculate house. Liam’s head was underneath the sheets, a little mountain of covers at his arched back. His tongue licked a harder stripe up your slit before pushing in.

You moaned much louder, sounding like a porn star. Your fiancé’s tongue felt like a mixture of velvet and sandpaper, indulgent beyond your wildest fantasies. You felt his brown locks, grown out more than usual and slightly curly, tickling your hipbones. Strong hands, so capable and rough from boxing, held you down at the curve where your thighs met your crotch. 

"Daddy…f-f..fuck daddy…”

Liam’s tongue shoved in deeper, flicking inside your walls to encourage more wetness out of you, surely smearing along that sculpted jaw of his. Of your daddy. “Shit, Li…you’re gonna make me cum.”

The little mound beneath the blankets lifts, and you gasp in shock. You’re suddenly empty, lacking that perfect tongue and his hands are gone with it. The line of his body cuts into the sheets, shivering down and down until his smiling face is protruding out the end. Liam giggles as he licks at his shining lips, then drags them across his wrist, wiping them clean.

"Why’d you stop?" You asked with a very big pout. Liam only preened at that, cooing into the side of your face and pecking you.

"You’re adorable when you’re pouty, princess." And fuck, his voice is so rough. Such a morning rasp mixed with the rawness of freshly eating out pussy. But his job wasn’t done…not until you were.

"Liii…" You whine, crossing your arms and covering your otherwise exposed chest, nipples still sensitive from his teeth.

"Now now…kitten," Liam’s voice is turned predatory when he takes each wrist. His fingers curl around and push them on either side of your hips, flat on the mattress. His eyes lock with yours.

Those eyes. You swore you could cum at just the sight of those eyes. The steamed creaminess of a green tea latte. A caramelized gold.

"Good girls don’t rush daddy. Do they?" Liam noses at your cheekbone, his lashes fanning along the peach fuzz there. Feather-like tickles erupting and sending electric pleasure to your untouched, leaking pussy. 

"Do they? Hmm?" He repeats himself, lower lip jutting out to mirror your pout. He looks like a puppy, but his hold on you makes your wrists turn white with the pressure. A numbness that has you feeling every sinister anticipation on earth.

"No…" You choose to huff out, breath hitting Liam in the chin, across his bright red lips with your arousal all over them. Some is smudged on his jaw, on the stubble that was scratching your inner thighs all morning.

Liam is still making his grumpy face, shaking his head; you follow and move your head the same way. “No they do not. Bad girls do that, pumpkin. And do you know what happens to bad girls?” Liam reaches to tuck your bangs behind your ear, his thumb entering the soft shell.

You only nod, a small mutter of sound bubbling out your throat.

"Mmm I know you know, my darling girl."

Liam is so close and smells like Balmain cologne. Like Liam, which really means that jittery excitement he emanated after a show. Meant that quick way he’d brush his teeth after taking a hit from his cig so he could stick his tongue down your throat. What it really meant though….was his good heart. Liam had such a good heart, so big and always had room for more. Always had love to give. 

"Bad girls don’t get to cum." Liam is closer, that minty breath laced with your taste. His canines press into your chin, chewing. His thumbs are pressing into the sides of your neck, heavier. Heavier….

Then you opened your eyes, the ceiling so white and smooth. Your arms thrust out beside you, alone. No body on your left or right, no little mountain crawling beneath the sheets. Between your legs…

You’re soaking wet, leaving a small pool on the lavender cotton underneath your panties. The house is messier than before. It’s more empty too, however. No gym bag or basketball shorts or snapbacks. No ties draped across the dresser. His scent is gone. Those packs of marlboros you begged him to throw out weren’t on the window sill anymore. 

"Oh…fuck." Your arms fall over your pink tinted face. 

You had to stop dreaming about the boy you saw drag his feet over that threshold a whole year ago. Liam Payne, who you begged to just take the fucking engagement ring. He was gone, off on tour and apparently not missing you like this. 

You rolled over and closed your eyes, crossed your legs, and threw the covers over your head. Because you really wanted to go back to sleep and not dream at all. 

\- - - 

Under the surface of the pool water, the sounds in your head weren’t as loud. Weighed down by the pressure closing in on all sides, which was comforting in ways you didn’t know about before. Before it all went to shit. 

There were a lot of things about life you were seeing differently since that. The silence wasn’t as peaceful, more a reminder. The stillness around you set the stage for the demons circling your mind. Chaos brushing against your shoulders, maybe even banging into you, meant a break from your thoughts.

You learned that was good. Couldn’t be healthy, just didn’t seem like it. But it was preferred. As long as the t.v. stayed off the entertainment channel and you didn’t look at those tabloids…you were alright. You were relatively happy sometimes, even…

A bubble erupted from your lips under the pool water, a laugh coming from your chest. Laughing at how ridiculous you were being. How completely fucked up this all was. Pathetically teetering on the edge of “okay” so long as you pranced along the mine field you laid down yourself. 

You and your bat hearing, I swear I can never surprise you! Liam always said that with a huge smile. He could never sneak up with a tickle attack or scoop you up without you knowing that he was right behind you. Heard his socks slide against the cherrywood floors, his hands swing in the air to cover his mouth. Always heard something.

That’s why you hear the doorbell way across the backyard and through the open doors leading to the foyer. You lifted half of your face over the surface of the softly waving water, aquamarine blue. Your lashes blink down tiny droplets onto your cheeks. It was probably Mari or Heather, the only people you gave pass codes to the gated community to. You and Liam bought this house with privacy in mind, now you appreciated that sentiment more than ever. But your friends frequently came to check on you, make you leave the house. Try to find a guy.

You’d leave the house today, for them. But you didn’t think you’d ever do the second. The early Summer air drifted across your wet skin, in the black bikini you bought on your vacation to St. Barts. Padding along the marble floors in the entryway, you lift onto your tippy toes to peek through the peephole. 

Liam.

“Y/n? I know you’re right there…”

Oh my god.

“H-hey…you don’t have to let me in. I just….I need to talk to you.”

Liam’s here at your house. The house you both put money into. The house he told you to take. The welcome mat beneath his feet is the same one he brought home from Pier One. You’re no longer seeing him through the little tunnel but staring straight forward. The dark smooth wood of the double doors, Liam’s voice slurring slightly on the other side. Three inches of maple a fucking barricade. 

But why was this a war? 

“Y/n…please it’s…it’s a fucking mess. I’ve made a mess of it….” Liam’s voice is drowning in something heavy, past regret and not yet hopeless. You knew the feeling well.

And maybe that’s what gets you to lift your wrist to the handle, and what turns the tendons inside you to open up. Maybe it’s all Liam.

And there he is. You figured something more theatrical would come to your mind besides the two words of oh wow. But the tidal wave folding over your body like a thick sticky dough felt plenty dramatic. Liam isn’t standing with his usual “proud and sweet” stance, the broad shoulders now slumped. His hair is unkept and longer than what you saw on that gossip mag last month, the last time you saw him. Just a figment on a glossy piece of paper. But the stickiness enveloping your chest like a bag of cotton candy was from the fact that this was first time you two spoke in almost a year. 

“Liam…” it’s all you can produce.

Liam blinks slow, seems to mull over his next sentence as his feet carry him over the threshold. The metal to the soles of his shoes echoes like the turning point of the silver screen in a crowded theater. All eyes on you.

Liam’s eyes are the most beautiful you ever saw. But the usual brightness that slinked across autumn spice and thicket green is clouded with nerves. Nerves and sadness, such a weight in it that you can see it crushing his chest. But he looks so fucking good. His body tight underneath that black t-shirt and blue jeans, arms rounded with hard muscle. His neck is only slightly dotted with his facial hair, and then there’s his mole. You have to look away and grab your other wrist at the sight of the little almond colored skin there. The tiny patch of skin you’d kiss and suck on when he was trying to beat a video game or fall asleep. Liam would always giggle though, eyes squinting with the widening of his laughter-pink lips. 

“Y/n, I’m so sorry to barge in-”

You have to laugh. “Liam, your name is on the house too…fuck…” You’re not looking at him. Don’t think you could, so your eyes focus on a teary view of the television that still held his recordings. 

“Mm I mean I juss….” Liam slurs before sliding his gaze on your body, only in the bikini, still very wet. You choose to get brave in a second, like a foal maybe, hooves poking through the white fence. You’re petrified of what the bones may touch or graze, any touch overwhelming. You’re scared that it may be…perfect.

Liam is rubbing the line of his jaw, fingers feeling the gentle scratch in every indent they hold. His lips open and wet like your body is. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous baby..” You’re still as a stone before the shaking sets in, the bones inside you burning.

“Sophia! Liam. Sophia Smith. That girl you’re in love with? You know her?” You swept your tongue across your bottom lip as you stepped forward, fists against your thighs. Narrowing your eyes at your ex-fiancé, on the offense but the defense means so much more. For your heart. Liam looks down with puppy dog eyes, like he just knocked over the ficus and wasn’t actually inside the house where you kissed and whispered and nudged and fucked and made love. Made you’re lives…together. He’s drunk and making a very bad decision here.

So are you…you know it already. 

“Liam, why are you here? Now? You’re supposed to be over me.”

“M’not.”

“Fuck, Liam. Fucking hell.” You throw your hands up, the tears staining your cheeks. Liam sniffles too, hands fidgeting at his belly button. He looks like a race horse stuck in the box too long, antsy and needy. So needy.

“I never was! I still love you gorgeous,” Liam steps toward you now, eyes wild and half mast at the same time. The drinking made him mellow and happy but that’s muddled tragically with his regret right now, all the words you didn’t know he held now jumping at you. Jumping like the stenciled ghosts on the walls of the makeshift haunted house you went to in grade school. Ghosts got bigger, you saw that now.

“Li…” Your feet are dropping you along the floor to the backyard. Like drenched rocks to be placed on a path, a garden of green and gold. Liam knows to follow you even as you shake your head, it’s really a nod. A desperate call for him to come closer…lose everything with me…

“I was a better man with you.” 

“You were the reason for everything baby.”

He’s unbuckling his belt before he ever has those powerful hands making his shirt disappear. There’s a foot between you two and paved surrounding the pool beneath. He tugs at his hair not carefully, with rough anxiety bleeding through the air. You know you’re close to the water. You stop.

Liam doesn’t. He’s reading the demons in your head like the newspaper paired with a hot cup of coffee. Liam never took sugar in his. Always burned his tongue, the boy could never wait.

“You’re what I didn’t expect,” Liam only halts when his chest is breathing in time against yours. Each body moving as the other did, just like old times. If a year could make everything different and unnatural…it didn’t succeed in this case. His heartbeat was haunted just like yours, screaming when the realization buzzed around you two like an alarm. It’s here. It’s here.

Liam’s eyes darted across every inch of your face, lips parted and breath alcohol chills.

“You are inside me. Always.”

You’re dipping your feet into the pool blindly, finding it behind you as you look straight up and out to him. His hands molded onto your hips, palms soaking up the damp. The next move is from him, his shoes sinking onto the first step, submerged in the water. It’s like a dance then, your body going down and he follows. Liam is shirtless but still in his jeans when he’s up to the neck in the blue, your tippy toes working for you to connect your lips. 

It’s a feast then, each tongue so starved for the one thing nobody but the other could provide. Could lick into your mouth to every indent, tasting the problems and giving you more. However tragic and ghostly, Liam’s return to your mouth was everything you needed. 

His fingers undo the ties on your bikini bottoms, the clothing floating off and to the middle of the pool on it’s own wave from the friction of your bodies. His lips are on your neck, right at the center of your throat, licking stripes up. Racing stripes tag along you as his fingers move to your pussy under the surface. You kick both legs up and wrap them around his hips, latching on tight. His breathing is heavy in your ear, knuckles rubbing a full shift into your folds. 

“Take these off, Li. Off,” you demand with fingernails scraping his jeans. 

His pants come off right away, the tight boxers sticky on his submerged legs but couldn’t compete with the kick of your heel. His cock is slapped to his lower abdomen, so incredibly full and stiff. Twitched under the blinking ovals the water had laced on it’s breach. You stare straight at it, lips harbored under your teeth, fingers grasping over and over at his neck. Liam’s gasping with you as his fingers refuse to quit with your pulsating center. You have to touch him or you’ll stay haunted forever.

“Ah, gorgeous,” Liam hisses when you wrap your hand around his cock, when you start to squeeze. You just revel in the weight of him, the utter girth that would stretch you back to home. That sweet soft drag of something you could never duplicate. 

“Mr. Payne,” you puff out your words into his ear as you pump him, the wet of your pool reacting with minuscule bubbles as you rile him up. Liam sputters at that. He wanted you to be Mrs. Payne. You wanted to be Mrs. Payne.

“Keep me.”

“I will.”

You didn’t know if you could keep him, but fuck did you want to. 

No…you would. Because as he twisted your hips in his strong capable hands and fed his cock into you, fed you the love neither of you ever lost your appetite for…you knew he was yours. You were selfish and too full of cares to be reckless but not now. Now you were properly full of everything proper. And that was always…always Liam.

Liam thrusts like he’d never have the chance to feel your walls slide over him again. His hips roll in the shape of a C and undulate just like you wanted. Splashes drip drip around you as you scream into the still sunshine air. All ragged breath and your hands clamping on his ribcage as his dig into the meatiest part of your ass. He whimpers and you squeak your moans of “Right there!” and “So fucking deep.”

Maybe there’s a daisy with it’s petals busted into the wind when you come hard onto his cock. Maybe there’s a dust cloud around the white and the yellow bud at the fence surrounding you here as Liam shoots his load into your body. There could have been a fleeting moment when you signed your name on the dotted line where your fingers shook. That moment is nothing compared to the fault line you broke when your screamed for Liam to leave. To just fucking leave.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” Liam gets the words out not even a second after you say it. 

Liam Payne, the man who carried you into the jacuzzi, limbs like jelly and curling around him because he was the only home you could ever know. Li, the boy you met under the jittery metal horses of a carousel. Mr. Payne, the man that only you knew on the inside, to that core that everyone imagined but never had. 

Your ex-fiancé locked his eyes into yours as you rode him, jets dialed all the way up. His cock tasted like the salt water of the pool and the warm musk of his skin radiating what he was. He was such a good man, a strong man who held you up lick into where he was just fucking you minutes prior. 

“Peach, my sweet peach.”

“Li,” you whimpered, then squealed when his mouth sucked hard on your clit. Liam’s voice is muffled into your sex and crisp, so crisp. His palms massaged each nipple, the buds rising up to the chill of the night swirling with the steam coming off the water. A black sky and lit up palms. 

\- - - 

Liam keeps the windows open all night, just as he did when he was a permanence here at the house. His scent is plastering to the walls, slinking into it and it’s beautiful. The way his fingers press into the tube of toothpaste and when he comes into the bedroom, all quiet. His body falls onto the mattress and you feel the ultra sensitive tingle between your legs stretch down your thighs. His face is flat to the sheets, one cheek turned up so he can look at you. You give him a smile, hand crawling to his back and scratching it soothingly. Just over his head the clock on the bedside cuts red into the otherwise black-blue room.

4:00 a.m.

“I almost didn’t drink.” Liam is so gentle when he speaks. You lift your eyebrows to keep him going. I’m listening baby. 

“Tried to be good. Tell myself it’s over, and that I’m happy with that.”

“Mmm..” You’re not close to the safety line either. You’re right with Liam at the edge, that cold draft of the haunt on each of your backs. 

“I couldn’t,” Liam says, shrugging as his lower lips says what he means. Knew I never could, that’s fine. 

Maybe it is fine. Just maybe.

The air from outside is soft with you two, wafting over the chill and mixing with the fright. Memories of your lives together fading.

“I hope I never can.”

You look away from Liam and out the window when he says that. Licking your lips to watch the birds fly from the willow tree and across the moon. Two stars miles and miles apart twinkle on either side of it, not one knowing the other is there, existing. 

They’ll fade one day too…

So you look back at Liam, whose not looked anywhere but straight at you since he laid to rest. Your hand kept rubbing against his back, kept comforting him. Kept loving him.

“I hope that too.”

And you two had that night, that silent and still darkness that could hide you for only a couple more hours. Liam was a straight line down the duvet, your legs curling into him and maybe erasing the skin he had. 

You and Liam only had one night to live your life together. The sun would come up like it always did; with the ghosts you and Liam would too disappear. 

Because you said goodbye and he was gone, past the doorway and into the bright outside. You two were over. Maybe with a shiny moonlight there could be a hand to pull you out of the grave. Had to be a generous hand, but it could happen. Perhaps a lonely soul would seek the story of what you guys had at a cocktail party and maybe you would get the courage to tell it.

But when things died they stayed dead, and something there stopped beating.

So when the sun rises and you wake up, his side is empty. The window is closed and the latch is on tight, sealing you in. No trace of him anywhere. The water in the pool is untouched and you’re not so sure of the feeling in your chest. But you smile anyway, touching the corner of your mouth to make sure of something. Just one thing.

You’re not dead. You’re not sad. You and Liam had that one night, and maybe others would too. 

Maybe it would all be just fine. Ghosts got to wake up everyday, and this one was smiling.


End file.
